


Paper Trail

by Just__Sparks



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Pendragon Returns, Canon Compliant, F/M, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-07-07 23:14:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15918210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just__Sparks/pseuds/Just__Sparks
Summary: The second he was able, Merlin Emrys had vanished without so much as a word spoken to those he loved in Camelot, following Arthur's demise. It is only the paper trail that he leaves in his wake throughout the centuries after that, which gives those searching for him an inkling as to where he may be.Once Arthur rises from Lake Avalon in the present day, he is tasked with finding the missing sorcerer, as those who have held faith that Merlin would return believe the Once and Future King is the only one who is certain to complete the task.





	1. Chapter 1

           The gusts of wind that followed Kilgarrah's departure buffeted Merlin as his tears fell freely. The sorrow within him, despite the dragon's words, felt as if it could sink him to his knees by pure existence alone. It’s weight could leave him in front of the lake, crushed beneath it, until that time in which Avalon deemed it within its power to return the Once and Future King to the land of the living.

 

           Despite his anguish though, Merlin knew he couldn't remain there, or anywhere near Camelot. Even though Gaius had sworn his favorite meal would be waiting on the table for him, the warlock had no intention of arriving for it. The elder physician had extended this courtesy with good intentions, and years later, Merlin would come to regret his decision to forgo this offer. However, at that time, he could not bear the thought of returning to Camelot without Arthur.

 

           Camelot was more than just Arthur, he was aware. However, without the King there, it would never be to Merlin what it once had been. The sorcerer hoped that those who knew him best would understand, and not begrudge him the freedom to live without judgement for his choices. As he understood it though, luck had never been on his side. That much had been made all the more clear with each person he loved that perished. A metaphorical sword, in the form of Arthur's death, had driven the point home, straight through his heart.

 

           Merlin could write tomes on what could have, and should have been, he mused, standing beside the water. He rued the days that he hadn't killed Mordred as an adult, or the ones in which he had taken Gaius' advice to leave Morgana be, rather than befriend her. In the depths of his heart, he knew that no matter how much he wished it were otherwise, what had happened could not be altered any longer. His decisions had led them to where they were, forcing both men to pay their version of the ultimate price. It had been unthinkable, up until the moment the plans of their former enemies had come to fruition. Now, no amount of begging or pleading to anyone could reverse what had come to pass.

 

           Wiping away the droplets from his eyes as best he could, or at least enough so he could see Arthur one last time, Merlin conjured up a boat not unlike the ones that were used for the burial of other knights. With little effort, he lifted Arthur up onto it. Splaying his body out just so, making certain he looked regal, even in death, Merlin stood back to take Arthur in.

 

           As he did, more tears spilled from Merlin’s reddened eyes. His throat tightened, and it was a miracle he managed to breath, as he gazed down at the man who had meant so much to him in life. Try as he might, gaining control of himself was about as likely as finding a needle in a haystack. He could only hope that his magic would be kept at bay. For once it was released, he was entirely uncertain whether or not he could force it to retract its grip on whatever it would lay to ruin.

 

           It took some time, but there was a fleeting moment of courage where once Merlin had emblazoned the image of his king in his mind forever, he had to to act. Moving purposefully, he managed to ease the boat, which held Arthur’s hollow body, into the water. Seconds later, the warlock raised his hands.

 

           The necessary spell tumbled from Merlin’s mouth in fitful bursts, as his body shook and his soul cried out for the man drifting further and further from him. Once Arthur's vessel had long since floated across the water of Lake Avalon, Merlin turned his back on the last place he had seen Arthur, intent on never looking back.

 

* * *

 

            Days later, after Percival had informed Queen Guinevere and Sir Leon of the King of Camelot's death, Gaius had not seen or heard a word from Merlin. Part of him had thought that he might. After all, Merlin had made it clear how much Gaius meant to him, as a mentor and a parental figure to boot. Even so, the aged court physician had more than an inkling that he had seen the last of his former charge.

 

            It was not until after he had returned to his own chambers, following the official proclamation of Arthur's demise, that he discovered an envelope, which had been resting in there since shortly after he had left for the throne room, unbeknownst to him. The familiar scrawl on the front, he knew upon sight. As quickly as his aged body would move, he hurried forward and tore open the letter, not bothering to sit down to peruse it.

 

_Dear Gaius,_

 

_I'm sorry to inform you that I won't be returning to Camelot. I hope that if not now, then in time, you and the others will understand. I've visited with my mother, and told her my plans. Please, believe me when I say that I wish I had the strength to come see you one last time. Unfortunately, I do not._

 

_On my way back from Lake Avalon, as you may know, I entrusted Sir Percival with the ring Arthur had given to me for Gwen. I hope by now that she has received it. If not, then please send patrols out immediately for it. Of one thing I know, Arthur did want her rule to be uncontested in the aftermath of the events following Camlann. Regardless of where I am, I will see that wish through._

 

             For a moment, Gaius shut his eyes, as pin pricks of perspiration threatened to manifest into aching sobs in the near future. After calming himself enough to continue, he gazed down once more at the parchment within his grasp.

 

_Thank you, for everything that you've ever done for me. I am forever in your debt. Should we not see each other again, please know that you have been one of the most influential people in my life. Were it not for you, well, I'm not sure where'd I'd be. Probably less heartbroken, if I'm being honest, but I don't regret coming this far; only that Arthur isn't here to share the dawn of a new age with us._

 

_Take care, Gaius._

 

_Love always, Merlin._

 

             At the closing of the letter, Gaius wept. A letter had brought Merlin to Camelot, and a letter was all that had been left of him in the wake of his departure. The parallel was not lost on him, as his aged heart shuddered in remorse for all that he had never managed to accomplish, and the ache of what could now never possibly be.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Arthur returns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are, 6 months since the first chapter. A lot has happened in my own life which has caused this. I also cannot promise a definitive schedule for this particular fic at the current time. However, please know, I adore this story, and cannot wait to continue it. If I were to wager a guess though, the next chapter could be up within the next few weeks to a few months. Hopefully, it won't take me as long as last time. All the same, I hope you enjoy this next chapter! Also, thank you for reading!

                Water gurgled and frothed as it churned wildly in the aged Lake of Avalon one summer's day in the year 2018. Whole empires had risen and subsequently collapsed, following the demise of Arthur Pendragon, former King of Camelot. Entire family lines had become nothing but dust in the wind, in the time that had elapsed since the monarch had taken his last breath. Unbeknownst to him, of course, as he had been in a deep sleep beneath the water which he happened to be surfacing from.

                On the marshy bank, a portion of an enormous shoreline that had remained throughout the ages, a lone figure stood. His face was clean, with an almost imp-like quality. However, it held no whimsy, but rather a face of indifference on his countenance as he waited for the water to cease sluicing down the chainmail clad around Arthur Pendragon's re-awakened form.

                The former made his way to the shore at an increasingly steadier pace. As much of the water had disappeared in centuries' past, it took him almost no time at all to reach the embankment upon which the shorter man stood.

                                               

* * *

 

                In the time that Arthur Pendragon had used to reach the land which had once been much smaller, or at least he could've sworn it had, he had wiped away the liquid which had clouded up his vision, until it had all disappeared. With clear eyesight, Arthur spied a man clothed in a fashion he had never encountered before. Of course, he felt deep within his bones, that was probably the least of his concerns.

                "Arthur Pendragon?" the man intoned.

                The voice made it seem more of a formality to Arthur. He hoped it was, at least. How many other dead kings appeared from the watery depths of Lake Avalon then, if he was far from the first? A question for another time, he supposed.

                "Yes, it is I, Arthur Pendragon, King of," Arthur paused, "Former King of Camelot."

                "Indeed. Follow me, please."

                Well, Arthur thought, at least the fellow had been taught manners, whoever he was.

                While Arthur was not frequently in the habit of following complete strangers at their behest, he also hadn't expected to return from the dead, so he figured what did he have to lose.

                Treading after the man clothed in foreign garb, Arthur moved in his chainmail as best he could. His body had been suspended in water for so long, it seemed to have forgotten how to move fluidly with the metal that he had donned at an earlier point in time. No matter, he knew that he couldn't stay in it forever. Once he found a safe place to rest, and had assessed that there would be no danger, he would shirk it, and find something less weighted.

                After what was probably no more than a few minutes’ walk, the man who was a good deal shorter than Arthur, halted in front of a tree. Its trunk was thicker than a horse’s middle, by a great deal, and its leaves were a bit wilted, but otherwise hanging onto the branches for what must have been dear life in the sweltering heat that was hung rent through the air.

                Pivoting about, the man looked up into Arthur's eyes, searching him for what seemed to be any hint of unworthiness. He would have scoffed, but hours and moments before death, he had been humbled to the fact that perhaps, his pride had done more harm than good. Whatever the man had been searching for, he must have found it, because he stepped aside and allowed Arthur to go before him. Of course, Arthur had no clue as to what he was meant to do, so he glanced over at the man beside him.

                "For a supposed military man of old, you are rather inobservant," the man stated, a hint of humor in his eyes.

                A blush of embarrassment warmed Arthur's cheeks. Instead of responding, he surveyed the area, and noticed that directly in front of him there was what appeared to be just another part of the trunk. Upon further inspection, it was a door. Feeling foolish, he reached forward, and pressed against it. Immediately, it sprung open.

                On instinct, his sword arm went straight for his weapon.

                "This is a sacred place, Arthur Pendragon. Do not sully these hallowed halls with your use of brute strength. Be safe in the knowledge that none will harm you here."

                Within seconds, Arthur reluctantly removed his grasp on the hilt of his sword.

                Despite the reassurance, he couldn't help but feel a bit less whole, when not walking into an unknown place without it in his hand. Remembering back to the night in the Druid camp, when he broke down though, he knew that this was his only option if he wished to proceed further.

                In silence, he stepped forward. The stranger moved around him and took the lead before him.

                Just as in the citadel that had once been his home, there were torches of flames that burned, lighting the path down a seemingly endless hallway. Together, the two made their way down the single lit corridor, with the stranger at the front and Arthur directly behind him.

                With no way to keep time, the walk took an inordinate amount of it. At least, Arthur thought so. After being sunk in a lake for goodness knew how long, each new step that he took seemed to take longer than it had before, as if everything were moving in slow motion, and he were viewing the world with new eyes.

                At some point, however, the other man came to a stop, once again. As Arthur was trailing close in proximity, this made his abrupt halt that much more important, so as to avoid collision with the fellow in front of him. It took great effort, but he narrowly escaped the whole disaster by mere seconds.

                Once Arthur regained his balance, he stepped back from the man, and waited to see what their next move would be. At this point, his companion was engrossed with a second door, which unlike the first, was most certainly a door. For a moment, Arthur had absolutely no clue what he was doing, until a picture was traced into it, and the whole door lit up in red and orange hues. This, he became aware, was magic.

                This made him wonder if this man knew Merlin. If so, would he be able to tell him where to find the sorcerer, if he were still alive. Although Arthur was unsure of how long he had been submerged, he felt that judging by the shift in the land, and the strange attire of his newest companion, it had been a great deal of time. Merlin, although a sorcerer, also had only been one man. He couldn't have survived that long, could he?

Regardless, magic is what had brought him back to the land of the living, this he was certain of. No mortal man on his own could perish and then return a whole person of their accord without some outside force to aid him. Who's magic, he was unsure of, but he felt that Merlin might have been the culprit. Why, of course, was the next question on the tip of his tongue. If he were no longer alive, what purpose would Arthur's return serve? He hoped that one day, he would have his answers.

                As the door slid aside, and the stranger turned back to gauge his reaction, Arthur wondered yet again where Merlin was, if he was still around, and if he would ever see him again.

                "I suppose you have many questions, Arthur Pendragon."

                Arthur swallowed, and then nodded.

                "Past this barrier, there lies the answers you seek. But be forewarned, you, and only you, have been designated to gain access to this place. Should you prove yourself unworthy, you will die a mortal man's death. Complete the quest you are given, and you will retain your immortality."

                "Quest? Is that why I have been called upon from the lake?"

                The man in front of him smirked

                "For all your arrogance in your previous life, there is a chance, nay an absolute fact, that you are the only one who can complete this quest. Others have tried and failed. In our hour of need, it seems that the Triple Goddess has deigned it necessary to request your services, after our other botched attempts."

                "What exactly, am I looking for, if I may ask?"

                "Not a what, but a whom. A man who cared more for your life than his own. A sorcerer who could raze mountains and solve world hunger, but instead gave his life in service to you for the duration of your reign."

                "Merlin."

                "Yes, Merlin. Emrys. The greatest sorcerer to ever walk the earth has gone missing. He willingly hid himself centuries ago. We've been looking for him ever since."

                At this point, the man turned to continue, knowing now that he had Arthur's full attention.

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo.... 
> 
> It's been a while.
> 
> I have an outline for this fic, a direction, etc. I am so excited to write more for it.
> 
> I hope whoever reads it, enjoys it as well. If you feel like it, leave a comment and let me know what you think. Even if it's keyboard smashing. Lol. 
> 
> Many thanks to VerdantMoth, who graciously entertained my musings and early rough drafts of this first chapter. She has agreed to do so for future chapters as well. 
> 
> My goal is to post twice a month, at the very least.
> 
> I may or may not start posting another fic by the week's end. I suppose we'll see.
> 
> Anyways, if you've read all of this/this far, thank you! I hope you're having an excellent day.
> 
> Until next time, Sparks.


End file.
